


Redemption

by prolepticdecrepitude



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Double Agents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Kidnapping, Physical Abuse, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, Slow Burn, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prolepticdecrepitude/pseuds/prolepticdecrepitude
Summary: What if Voldemort had another weapon? One he stole. One he's kept for years, bending, breaking, and shaping.Meet Elle, the not-so-dark pureblood -- the last part of Voldemort's plan to rise to power.Her family's past doomed her to be raised as a Death Eater, but can Severus Snape save her?
Relationships: Severus Snape & Reader, Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Reader, Severus Snape/You
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, welcome to this fic. Just really doing this for fun with some ideas I had kicking around. 
> 
> I realize that the older portrayal of Snape by Alan Rickman concerns some people, but in the books Snape is about 30 when Harry starts at Hogwarts. I've made the OC about 5 years younger. If it helps you, or if you'd prefer, you can imagine Snape as Adam Driver. To each their own. 
> 
> I've also tried to be spot on with some dates here as far as generations and parenting go. Any families referenced are also accurate per the Harry Potter Wiki, so that is not of my creation.

The dread that ran through her the moment he came back was unforgettable. The pain in her arm? Indescribable. The last time her mark pulsed heavily and slithered under her skin was when she was 15. She’d known he was coming back, of course -- the whispers had overwhelmed recent gossip after all, but when her mark grew dark that day, despair consumed her for the decisions she had made when she was young and the desolation of the days to come. She knew she couldn’t ignore the call.

The fog in the cemetery is thick. She can just glimpse him standing pinned to a statue gasping in pain: Harry, the boy who lived, the boy who did what she could not. She was fascinated and enraged, perhaps not rage, maybe jealousy? Overwhelmingly, though, she felt fear for him. She composed herself quickly as she felt Voldemort’s mind beginning to mull over the Death Eaters in attendance. Slowly he strolled around the circle, ridiculing, complimenting, and encouraging his sycophants. She scoffed internally while Crabbe, Goyle, and McNair were all shaking and Nott, the worst of all, splayed himself over the ground. He slowly walked past Nott he stopped in front of her. His red eyes seemingly pierced her very being. His cold, dead, hand with startlingly long fingers reached out to slowly remove her mask and stroke her cheek. It took every bit of moral fiber for her not to flinch, not to run, and not to scream. The others in the circle let out low gasps – most had assumed her to be dead. After a few heartbeats his high-pitched and strained voice rang out, causing goosebumps to permeate her entire body.

“Well, Elle, age has been _very_ kind to you. A mere slip of a girl last time I saw you, and yet here you stand, a woman. Still loyal, and, I sense, more lethal… as if that were possible.” His grotesque mouth turned upwards showing his equally terrifying teeth. Ever so slowly, his grin turned into a high, cold laugh.

As her stomach churned, he took pleasure in seeing how his weapon had grown. After spending 15 years molding her, he believed she was his greatest creation apart from his horcruxes. He held no ridicule for her and no animosity. He did not doubt her loyalty for a second. Knowing she was a skilled Legilimens, he praised her further in his mind and promised her he would check in on her later.

She watched on in terror as he challenged Harry to a duel. She watched as Voldemort flung unforgivables at Harry. She watched as he writhed in pain. She screamed noiselessly for the boy to leave, to run. She watched in amazement as Harry shook off an Imperio curse, something she had done, but had seen no other wizard achieve. She watched as Harry ducked behind graves, silently cheering him on. Eventually, however, their duel began, but as soon as it started, she knew something was wrong. After a few moments she remembered from her time working with Gregorovitch that the wands had to have twin cores, of what, she had no idea, but Voldemort, under any other circumstance would have killed the boy by now. She watched, tears threatening to fall as she saw the figures of Lily and James Potter helping their son. Finally, she began to breathe again as Harry yelled his last spell bringing to portkey to his hand. The rage that ensued from Voldemort, however, was something she would rather renounce her magic than witness again.


	2. Chapter 2

After the battle, she returned with Voldemort to Malfoy Manor. She had always hated the place as a girl, and wretched at the thought of having to visit it more in the future. Voldemort loved to use it as headquarters. It was cold and full of the screams of the witches and wizards who had been tortured here in years past. Not to mention the insufferable Malfoy family and their equally insufferable child.

Voldemort endlessly paced the floors of the Malfoy Manor. After an hour or so, she spoke up, her high, tinkling voice interrupting the barefoot footsteps across the dark hardwood.

“My Lord is there anything I can do to help?” she queried. He peered at her through his red slits.

“Do you know what went wrong?” he hissed.

“No, sir.” she lied.

“And what of the Elder wand? You have had 14 years to look for it, have you not?!” he all but yelled.

“Sir, I have searched every continent and questioned every wand maker. If I had found it you would have it.” She said softly. At this he scoffed and hissed, obviously unimpressed. He quickly threw the cruciatus curse at her. No matter how many times she had suffered it, it was always as painful as the first. The white-hot knives she felt in her skin caused her to whimper and gasp for breath.

“Since he is obviously too preoccupied to respond to his mark, make yourself useful for ONCE and find Severus Snape. Get out of my SIGHT!” The cruelty in his words had not changed, in fact, somehow, they had gotten impossibly worse. He let up on the curse after which she quickly nodded and disapparated.

The next second she stepped on to the bridge outside of Hogwarts castle. Out of breath, she limped slowly through the front gate and the heavy doors of the main entrance. It had been a long time since she had experienced the Cruciatus curse and she was in pain all over. The students were obviously sequestered in their houses. Of course, it had been hours since Cedric’s death. Strangely, she swore she could have seen she saw Minister Fudge’s distinguished robes out of the corner of her eye as she approached the main doors. Thankfully, however, she had gone unnoticed entering the castle. Slowly she made her way to Dumbledore’s office, but by the time she reached the bottom of the spiral steps, she gave up whispering “levicorpus” and rose the rest of the way into the room and settled in a large, overstuffed armchair in the corner. Taking off her outer cloak she curled inward on herself in the chair smiling at the fire in the corner of the cozy office.

“Elle, I didn’t expect you tonight.” Professor Dumbledore said as he eyed her warily.

“No, sorry for the lack of notice, Albus. He’s enraged about the boy. He’s back to his old ways already. I didn’t want to stand there another second and risk another Crucio.” She whimpered pathetically. The old man looked on at her with sympathy over his half-moon shaped spectacles.

“And what, may I ask, did he send you for?” He raised his chin along with his silvery eyebrows.

“Severus. Just Severus. I don’t think he believes he will come easily.” She inwardly cringed at this. She had not seen Severus in 14 years either. Hopefully he had aged better than Voldemort. She chuckled inwardly at her comment. She was unceasingly nervous though, despite her lingering pain. As a girl she had a stupid crush on the man. Technically back then he was barely past being a teen. Just 21. Call it falling in love with your rescuer or what you may. Perhaps not love, but at least an intense crush. She scoffed at herself as he almost certainly pitied her.

“Well, you’re in the right place. Severus will be here any second.” At this she panicked, quickly straightening herself and her top and jeans that remained after she had discarded her cloak. Albus chuckled knowingly and she glared at him – did the man have to seemingly know every damned thing about every damned one? Not ten seconds later in all of his dungeon bat glory Severus Snape stalked into the office. He didn’t even offer a glance in her direction. His face looked slightly more lined, his hair was the same, but she could tell he still held the same sturdiness under his robes she had become accustomed to.

“Well now that practically everyone in the castle has been administered a sleeping draught can we please discuss –“ Snape began drawling, but Dumbledore cleared his through cutting him off and motioning to her with his eyes. She glared at Severus, arms crossed as he moved his eyes to hers. For a second she could have sworn she was surprise in the taciturn man’s eyes. Surprise at what? Her being alive and well? Not staying 15 forever? Who could say.

“Hello Severus.” She said curtly and waved.

“Elle… I thought-” he almost whispered while drawing his eyebrows together and glancing downwards. If she were more foolish she would have mistook his tone for empathy.

“I was dead? No. Traveling mostly, taking on apprenticeships, learning new magic with the help of Polyjuice of course.” She winked at him, as she knew he was the one who painstakingly taught her how to perfect the brew. “Now, I get to be Voldemort’s trophy weapon all over again.” She smirked. His expression, however, was not one of amusent. It quickly morphed through confusion, pain, and finally anger. Snape turned quickly to Albus and placed his hands on the wizard’s desk while learning forward.

“You aren’t going to let this happen again are you?! She is a GIRL. He. Will. Kill. Her.” He hissed out each word slowly, separately. “And if he doesn’t kill her, he will break her.” She rolled her eyes at his theatrics. He never did agree with her double agency before Voldemort’s fall. Instead, he always advocated that she should have just been taken from him and hidden, locked away. She cleared her throat, once again getting his attention.

“Thank you for your unsolicited input, Severus, but I’d like to remind you that I. Am. No. Longer. A. Child. I take more curses from him than you do on any given day, for a stupid wand no less. You best be careful with what you say, someone might mistake it for _concern_.” She smirked cruelly at her own imitation of his speech patterns. He seemed considerably less impressed and sneered back. “Besides, I would think you may want to be more concerned about what lie you’ll throw at the Dark Lord when he asks where in the Hell you’ve been the last 14 years.” Albus sighed while Severus paled slightly. Snape continued to stare at her, no doubt wondering where her timidity had gone. She silently, indignantly stared back at him. Albus was the first to break the silence.

“Unfortunately, Severus, she is correct on both counts. Either way, she is too valuable an asset to lock away. Voldemort not only trusts her completely, but deems her as an ultimate weapon, he believes her power to be indomitable.” Severus straightened his back just as a serpent does before it strikes obviously more enraged by his words.

“And WHY. Why does he believe this?! Why did he kidnap her, single her out?! And for Merlin’s sake, why does he believe, after all these years, she knows where the Elderwand is?! And don’t insult me by saying it’s because she’s a bloody pureblood, he has his pick of the crop in that regard!” Severus screamed now, demanding answers. She was confused. The man had never shown this much concern for her work before and he had certainly never insulted her ability. Why now? In fact, even Dumbledore had never asked these questions, rather he valued her for her willingness to deliver information while he, in return promised her Voldemort’s defeat. She was sure Dumbledore was curious about her past, but assumed he never asked due to her trauma of kidnapping and so called brain-washing. Dumbledore slowly turned his gaze to her, as if asking the same questions Snape had just presented. She knew then, despite her anger, if they were to truly trust her as their ally and a spy now, she had to tell them the whole truth. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

“He believes I come from a long line of powerful wizards who happen to be the last known wizards to possess it.” Dumbledore, for the first time in her entire time of knowing him, looked confused. Dread slowly began to fill her.

“That’s impossible.” Dumbledore sputtered. He slowly held up his wand. She instantly recognized it from the drawings in her grandfather’s books. Surprise overcame her. Up until this point he truly had no idea where the wand had ended up. Of course, it would have been most logical for it to end up with him, but the fact was that no one really knew, and she hadn’t tried that hard to find out. Now she would have to lie much more effectively about her search for the wand. She shuddered at the thought as it undoubtedly meant more pain. “The man I took this from had no descendants.” Her lip quivered, eyes filling with tears, for she knew the old, wonderful wizard in front of her could not stand the next words out of her mouth. After reading her grandfather’s diaries she knew how he had felt about Albus Dumbledore and not for the first time, her heart broke for the old man.

“He did. He felt it necessary to continue his bloodline, even if he didn’t care about the poor pureblood woman he used to do so.” Albus took on a look of understanding, resting his head in his hands. Snape, however, not knowing the last owner of the wand or Albus’ connection to the man still stood confused and shocked at seeing the powerful wizard in such a state. She drew in another breath and spoke almost in a whisper “I’m sorry, Albus, but Gellert Grindelwald is my grandfather.”


	3. Chapter 3

It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Severus started at her dumbstruck while Albus looked on with worry and sadness.

“My mother, Grindelwald’s only child, took her mother’s name as soon as she was able to avoid the ridicule associated with it. She married into the American Van Droombeeld family…” she trailed off. Surprise and understanding suddenly graced both of the wizards faces.

“So, you’re the missing Droombeeld child? And somehow, no one seemed to piece it together?” Snape asked quietly, still in shock.

“My mother died in childbirth, and my father, well I would think he was consumed with grief. It seems soon after I was born Voldemort confounded him and my family so while everyone knows of my absence, none of the family looked for me. The rest of the world believed my family would have looked, what with their money and power, but I simply slipped into obscurity as I take it.” She stated simply while pausing briefly, letting the information fill the space.

“You could have gone back. After Riddle had taught you enough, after I found you, you could have left. You would have been rich and celebrated in America.” Snape said matter-of-factly. She sneered at him. Of course, he thought she only cared about being rich and celebrated. How very _Slytherin_ of him to assume.

“Oh yes, Severus, I _never_ thought of turning up at the Vornehm Estate, yelling ‘Here I am! I’ve come back!’ Please. By the time I was old enough to speak Riddle had quite thoroughly convinced me that no one was looking for me, that no one cared. He told me from the start the rest of the family had found out my relation to Grindelwald and shunned my parents. Of course, that wasn’t true. The only people in the world alive that know of my relation are me, Voldemort, and now you two. I only found out about Riddle cursing my family in the last year of Riddle’s reign while visiting them in New York while attempting to locate the Elderwand. I refused to put them in danger of being attacked by Voldemort if I rebuilt family connections.” Her voice was full of contempt for Severus’ question. How dare he assume she would rather live with the now snake of a man, her kidnapper, than return home to her family?

“So when Severus found you and brought me to you all those years ago, you agreed to double agency because…“ Dumbledore questioned, slowly recovering from shock.

“Because I hated Voldemort. For kidnapping me, for espousing his lies. For making me into something I would have never wanted to be had I known of my family. I had just returned from New York. I wanted him dead. I still do. I felt sure I could have killed him, but by the time I had returned he had just finished another Horcrux. When Severus found out about me, he was enraged again, and kept a closer eye on me than ever after being forced to reveal my existence to his followers. I knew I couldn’t move against him alone. That is why I agreed to your double agency, it is why I stand here today, telling you this. You and the boy are the only ones he fears, the only way in which we kill him.” She spoke quickly. Not stopping for breath. She was tired, and she needed the conversation to be over. Her emotions ran too deep and too hot to stand pouring more of her story out on the table.

“I see… And what may I ask, will killing him achieve for you?” She could tell from his words Dumbledore was considering her story carefully, trying to determine if she lied about her American ties and hate for the Dark Lord. Aside from the obvious, her answer shamed her to an extent, as it was selfish. Nonetheless, she knew to be allied with the man she had to answer truthfully.

“Redemption… Perhaps if my family can know me as one of the witches who moved against Voldemort, they will more readily accept me. They might be able to overlook my relation to Grindelwald and my past.” The former she was most concerned about. She knew eventually Voldemort would reveal more about her parentage to the Death Eaters, and after that the world would soon know. Of course, they may be able to forgive her for being kidnapped and brain-washed by an English wizard, but she knew it would be much harder for them to overlook her connection to the terror inflicted on American wizards by Grindelwald. They would believe her to be inherently evil.

Snape gave her the same look he gave the day he found her locked away in the Malfoy Manor. His pity, of all people, embarrassed and angered her, and she rolled her eyes. She could sense his mind prodding at hers for an opening. Strangely however, his expression did not reflect suspicion, rather concern. For her, on the other hand, his actions and expressions were far too readable, even if he was a skilled occlumens like herself. He grunted in frustration at being unable to penetrate her mind. She chuckled and smirked at him. Failure bothered him more than anything else. He was so used to success after being able to read Voldemort’s mind with little effort. After what seemed like a century of his efforts Dumbledore spoke up.

“Well then. For now, you must bring Severus back and let Voldemort believe your hate for your family has only grown in his absence. Tell him you had to wait for Severus to administer all of the sleeping draughts to the students. Do not betray that you and Severus have any connection other than being Death Eaters.” She scoffed at his last comment. As if she would ever give a second glance or thought towards the bat that pitied her so. She nodded nonetheless and got up to leave expecting Snape to follow her. When he did not, she whirled around, observing Dumbledore whispering something to the man. She couldn’t hear them and silently cursed her love for loud muggle music during her travels. She summoned her cloak back over her muggle clothing as Severus transfigured his robes into the cloak. Silently and hurriedly they made their way past the front doors and back to the bridge where they could apparate back to Malfoy Manor. She could have sworn she felt his hand ghost over her lower back guiding her through the front doors as he opened them. She brushed it off, though, convincing herself had just imagined it. As they apparated she felt the pull at her belly button and was quickly enveloped in the cool darkness of the manor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested, here's some more info on the Van Droombeeld Family: https://wizarding-elite.fandom.com/wiki/The_Van_Droombeeld_Family. Again, not my creation, but there are some more photos and context there.

“Don’t. Say. Anything.” Severus forced out as they walked down the dark hall.

“And since when are you allowed to tell me what to do, dad?” She hissed back. He didn’t answer, instead opting to give her a dangerous sideways glare. She rolled her eyes and scoffed at him. Fucking toxic masculinity. Doesn’t check on her for 14 years and then expects them to be chums? Hardly. They finally turn the last corner into the main room of the manor.

“Ahhh Severussss…” Elle wanted to flinch as Voldemort hissed out his name. “I see our pretty Elle hunted you down.” She gagged at his words, hiding her face behind her hand. Voldemort smirked, thinking she was blushing at his words which only disgusted her more. Severus nodded his head at the dark Lord while straightening his back and raising his chin, regarding him carefully. Voldemort stalked over to Severus and moved his face closer and closer to Snape’s. “Now, tell me, how did the boy escape.” His voice was low and dangerous.

“My Lord, Barty Crouch Jr. left the portkey active. If I’d known-“

“SILENCE.” Voldemort interrupted Severus. “14 years, 14 years and you make no attempt to find me, no attempt to even lift a finger in my aid. And when I return, you stay simpering at that pathetic school until I have to send someone to track you down.” Voldemort was seething with rage. He slowly raised his wand toward Severus, she knew what would come next.

“Sir-“ Voldemort whirled around stare at her with his red eyes, smirking as he did so as if he was excited to watch her try to defend the man. “If I may?” He grinned wider, splaying out his hand as if to say, “go on.” She cleared her throat. “The Tournament was a spectacle. Barty Crouch Sr. was there, along with the students and the rest of the staff. Not to mention all of the students and staff from other schools. Had he moved to aid Barty Crouch Jr. in any way he would have risked them thinking that he was still loyal. His double agency would have ended.” She finished in an almost whisper, knowing she may be crucioed at any moment. Voldemort stared at her dumbfounded as if suddenly realizing that she could actually speak. After a few moments he spoke.

“Perhaps you have a point my dear.” He smiled, turning away from them slowly. She quickly glanced at Severus who gave her a hateful, dreadful look. “But-“ They both whipped their heads up, turning their attention back to Voldemort. “Since _when_ do _you_ defend Severus, Elle? More importantly, that still doesn’t reveal why he’s made no effort to help me over the past years” She began to breathe more quickly, concocting a lie.

“Sir, I simply thought-“ She sputtered.

“THAT YOUR JUDGEMENT IS BETTER THAN MINE?!” Roared Voldemort raising his wand at her. Severus stepped in front of her, between the Dark Lord and her small frame. It seemed like an eternity as she watched Severus’ shoulders rise and fall with the heaviness of his own breath. She reached out with her mind, sensing rage still emanating from what was left of Tom Riddle in front of Severus’ tall frame

“He _was_ helping.” It came out as a small, tinkling whisper from behind Severus back. All of the confidence she had in Albus’ office had disappeared. She’d suddenly reverted into the weak girl she once was. Voldemort placed his hand on Severus’ shoulder, eyeing him suspiciously but turning his attention back to her. Severus looked down at the hand with disgust, but he reluctantly moved in the direction it urged him, allowing Voldemort to stand in front of her again. “When I was out looking for the wand, everyone believed me to be dead. They would have sent me to Azkaban had they found I was not. To stay hidden in plain sight I had to use Polyjuice. Severus helped me to brew the longest lasting, most effective potions. Without him I would have been unable to search. On top of that, his duties as potions master and being a God father to Draco, there was simply no other time in which he could be absent from his post to search.” Severus looked at her in complete shock. As if, not for the first time this night, he didn’t even recognize the woman standing in front of him. She worked filling her mind with imaginations of their interactions, Severus resupplying her with Polyjuice. She slowly replaced her memories of brewing it herself with those images. When Voldemort looked in her mind he withdrew rather quickly, seeming convinced at the images she had forced into her memory. He took a step backwards, regarding them both again.

“Well then, I suppose you’re right, Elle. He was helping. Which returns us to the issue that even with the help of one of the greatest wizards of our time, and with yourself being undoubtedly one of the most powerful witches alive today, I still. Have. No. Wand.” He ground out the last word behind his teeth, obviously still seething. “I have nothing.” Again, he began raising his wand, and this time, Severus’ expression betrayed his terror.

“Gregorovitch.” She spat out.

“Come again?” Voldemort leaned his head towards her, stepping closer.

“Gregorovitch. The wand maker. With the help of the Polyjuice I became his assistant. He trusts me completely. I can get you access to him easily. I am sure he knows something about the wand. I simply assumed your interrogation skills would be more… effective than mine in this situation. People tend not to be scared of women.” She played into his ego, making sure she belittled her own power in the process. She knew one of his greatest fears was her overpowering him. If she even seemed too strong, too independent, or too opinionated, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to lock her away, or even kill her, powerful weapon be damned. She could just register Snape’s uneasiness impinging at the edges of her mind. Seeming to think carefully about her response for a while, of the sudden Voldemort stepped back away from her.

“Well, I can see, Severus, that you have taken care of my weapon in my absence. I am also sure you have gained even more trust within the school and the wizarding world during the last few years – most importantly with Albus Dumbledore. He turned back to her. “Perhaps you need to spend more time around Bellatrix.” He placed his hand on Severus shoulder again glancing at him. “After all, what use is a weapon if it can’t be intimidating?” Voldemort let out a high, cold laugh obviously expecting Severus to join him. He simply smirked instead.

“Indeed.” He replied simply. She kept her outward appearance neutral but was suddenly reminded that that was all she really was: a weapon.


End file.
